


Shattered

by AevsFires



Category: Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure (Cartoon)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Daddy Issues, Fantasy, Found Family, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Internal Conflict, Moon Powers Varian (Disney), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Torture, in chapter two at least, lots of foreshadowing, the first three chapters are the setup i guess, there will be Varian whump
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-29
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-22 10:16:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22947919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AevsFires/pseuds/AevsFires
Summary: Freed from Corona's prison by the mysterious West Wind, Varian sets out for the legendary Dark Kingdom. Now on the run from the Disciples of Zhan Tiri, who seek to exploit the power residing in him, Varian is forced to confront his inner demons and decide who he truly wants to be.In his struggle to find the strength to fight for the world that turned its back on him, Varian is drawn ever closer to his kindred companion; but in doing so risks unleashing a curse capable of taking away all that he loves, and revealing a secret the may destroy him.
Relationships: Varian (Disney) & Lord Demanitus (Disney), Varian (Disney) & Original Character(s), Varian (Disney) & Ruddiger
Comments: 15
Kudos: 36





	Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! My name is Angie, and this is awkward. You may know me on tumblr as aevsfires, or you just stumbled across this. Either way, welcome! This story is a passion project of mine that I've been planning for two years, and now it's finally here. So brace yourselves, you're in for a long roller coaster of emotion, angst, magic, and found family.   
> Now, let me just say this, the _only_ reason I have a scene with an OC first is for the sake of keeping things chronological. That's it. I'm hoping you'll give Zoë a chance, I've done my best to make her an interesting, plot serving character who won't steal that spotlight. That being said, she is the deuteragonist. But trust me, there's a reason for that. And Varian's scene is longer. I checked.  
> Ok, enough of me rambling, that's for the end notes.  
> Warnings: mild language, mentions of past death, mild flashbacks (if that bothers anyone), mentions of blood, vomitng, near panic atacks. Please tell me if there's anything I missed.   
> Without further ado, I give you Shattered!

_Beautiful Lies._

Darkness was banished with the promise of day as the Sun rose, abandoning the Moon to sink below the horizon. The last of the stars faded from sight, midnight blue giving way to rich cobalt. A few low hanging clouds drifted on a cool breeze- Zoë absently wondered if she was causing that- and in the distance, birds were beginning to sing. If someone chose to look at the sky, all they would see was perfection.

It was a beautiful lie.

Below, the mangled, smoking remains of automatons lay strewn about the remnants of Old Corona like metal corpses. People picked their way through the rubble, some supporting their wounded companions and others checking to make sure their enemies were truly defeated before scurrying off in fright. Black rocks pierced the empty steel shells, _soldiers impaled on the ends of swords-_

Zoë blinked hard, pressing her nails into the scars that ran across her palms. Her vision flickered again, one moment seeing the ruins of a village and the next a blood soaked battlefield. Steel husks became mountains of bodies, ordinary citizens became soldiers, the skeletons of what once were houses became pillars of unnatural green flame. Another blink, and the scene reverted to what was real. Zoë ignored the whispers. 

It hadn’t been a war. Not really. But that didn’t make the fighting any easier to watch. It was _sickening_. Even now, it was all Zoë could do to keep herself in the present and not surrender to the pull of her memories. 

She hovered, invisible, intangible, over the smoldering ruins of Old Corona. She couldn’t remember what it had looked like before all this. Destruction had always been inevitable- the deadly spikes growing everywhere the eyes could see were proof of that. But this- _this_ could have been avoided. Quirin wouldn’t be sealed in unbreakable amber. The rocks wouldn’t have nearly obliterated an entire kingdom. 

Zoë wouldn’t be watching her friend’s _son_ be dragged off in chains.

_Well, I hope you’re happy, Quirin,_ Zoë thought bitterly, her wispy astral form gliding to the ground. She swept her gaze over the carnage once more. _You told me to leave; you told me everything would be fine. Is this_ fine _enough for you?_ Her eyes came to rest of the castle, the only building in the near vicinity still standing. Had it really been ten years since she had last stood in this spot? And it was this exact spot, she was sure of it. 

It wasn’t the most pleasant thing to reminisce on. They had yelled- both of them. Grief had been a raw wound in their hearts that day, and Zoë couldn’t blame Quirin for going off (to be fair, she had gone off first). She didn’t blame him for this- _much_ , but friend or not, he was a liar, and she was still pissed. She still had plenty of choice words she wanted to hurl at him. Never mind that Quirin wouldn’t be able to hear, she needed to release the tension coiling in her gut.

A distant, gruff voice jolted her from her thoughts. “Come on, kid.”

_Varian._

Zoë turned away from the castle. She didn’t dare look back. 

Effortlessly passing through a stray bit of debris- damn, she would never get used to that- she settled on the ground to watch as a pair of guards led Varian away. 

Varian’s shoulders were stiff underneath the hands of the men forcing him forward, his gaze fixed dead ahead with an unyielding glare. He didn’t resist them but exuded an air of defiance that impressed Zoë almost as much as it unnerved her. But for all his efforts to keep up the façade- Zoë could see right through it. 

Varian was scared out of his mind. She could see it in the way he tensed under the guards’ firm grip, in the way his hands clenched into tight fists to keep them from trembling beneath the manacles encircling his wrists, in every shaky, reluctant step. 

Maybe he _should_ be scared. He’d gotten himself into this mess in the first place. It was no less than what he deserved. But then where did that leave Zoë, who would have done the exact same thing? Zoë knew she could’ve done worse. She already had, countless times. 

The sudden sting of remorse was like a punch to the gut. And before Zoë could decipher exactly _what_ she was supposed to be feeling guilty about, Varian’s red-rimmed, haunted, pale blue eyes snapped to the side, inexplicably staring right at her. 

A strangled gasp escaped her lips.

Varian stopped dead, eyes widening with shock and confusion. Zoë’s heartbeat skyrocketed. 

_Sky blue eyes, locked onto hers-_

The moment was over in an instant, the guards dragging Varian away from Zoë. She didn’t see it. She wasn’t in Old Corona anymore. 

_Zoë froze on the bridge of back stone, tightening her already white knuckled grip on her sword. Sounds of fighting raged in the distance, blades clashing and people screaming. Meaningless noise drowned out by the racing heartbeat beating in tandem with hers. She never hesitated- not in battle, not when standing over any enemy. Waiting would get her killed._

_But here she was, paralyzed, as those surprised blue eyes met her piercing sapphire ones. Eyes that widened in disbelief, eyes that didn’t believe she was real-_

_”NO!”_

Zoë hurtled out of the past, clutching her head and stumbling backwards, crashing to her knees. Her heart pounded in her chest, breath coming in shaky gasps. A kaleidoscope of color swam before her, foggy and bright, even when she shut her eyes. She fumbled for the amulet at her neck, letting out a soft sigh of relief when it reached her fingers. The crescent was a cool, familiar weight in her hand, bringing her back to reality. _No heartbeat, not anymore…_

The fingers of her free hand curled into the damp soil, dirt and pebbles squelching between her knuckles. Too shaken to resist, Zoë let her thoughts wander to the past. She replayed it behind closed eyes, sifting her finders through the loose earth to keep herself grounded. 

The two faces she was seeing couldn’t be more different. Except their eyes- her heart gave a painful twinge- their eyes were the same shade of blue. Their expressions were eerily similar as well, and that somehow made it worse. 

It wasn’t _normal._ She didn’t understand. Why her mind had shown her… _him_ , when it wasn’t him in front of her. Her eyes just didn’t seem to understand what her heart did. Sol was- gone. 

Zoë let go of her amulet. _Just gone._

She couldn’t stomach thinking of it as anything else right now. 

Feeling more than a little rattled, Zoë unsteadily rose to her feet. Her misty astral form flickered; she was losing her grip on the projection. Despite that, she risked an apprehensive glance at Varian as he was shoved into the back of a wagon. 

Zoë’s feet moved of their own accord. With every wary step closer to Varian, the pit in her stomach grew. No one had ever caught sight of her astral form; she was a horrible projector. Even stronger projectors- like Manny, before the whole monkey incident- had to put an obscene amount of effort into making themselves visible. Varian shouldn’t have been able to see her. 

But he had, and there was a reason. Zoë knew it. She felt like she _should_ know it, but the answer teasingly eluded her grasp. Agitated, she took another step, and was suddenly hit with her just as elusive common sense. 

“No. _Nope_. Not doing this.” Zoë turned on her heels, stomping in the direction of the flattened border wall. Her hands came up to tug at her hair, as though she had to yank the stupid right out of her head. 

Tonight had been about checking on Varian. She’d done that. He was fine, he was safe; not in the best of situations, but as long as that asshole of a king kept his head on straight he’d be _fine_. How he had seen her wasn’t important. Plenty of questions went unanswered all the time, Zoë argued as she squashed down her morbid curiosity. She was _not_ getting herself into another mess. She was _leaving._

She was mere seconds from letting her form dissipate when a whisper, soft as mist, curled around her ear. 

Sun and Moon, not _now._

The voices had been growing restless all night, feasting on her frustration. They’d been patient, but it seemed they wouldn’t wait any longer. Their claws sank into Zoë’s brewing storm of emotion, using it as leverage to pull themselves out of her subconscious. 

Another whisper. And another, and another. Lurking in the depths of her mind, the voices were a constant presence. They encircled her now, caressing her with their soft murmurs. It only served to further aggravate her. Speaking those unintelligible whispers and gathering around Zoë like vultures to a dead animal, the voices grew in volume. 

An involuntary shiver slithered down Zoë’s spine. Her skin crawled. “Knock it off.” she knew they wouldn’t listen. They never listened. All she could do was wait for them to retreat into the shadows. They always did, eventually.

Today, however, something was different. Something was _off._ The voices were faster, louder, more urgent as they reverberated through Zoë’s skull. She forced her watering eyes shut and clamped her hands tight over her ears in an attempt to block them out, but they forced their way past her walls. They penetrated every corner of her mind, spreading further than they had dared to go in _years._ Not since- _oh no_ ¬please, _not again…_

The warning slammed into her like a wall of bricks. 

Every whisper, every voice, collided into one, shattering her denial with one deafening word. 

**_“Danger.”_ **

~*~

The wagon rattled as it bumped its way down the uneven roads, the chains clinking loudly every time it jolted. The cuffs were unbearably tight against Varian’s wrists, pressing against his flesh hard enough to leave bruises. If it weren’t for his gloves, the skin would’ve broken by now. For that, at least, he was grateful. He couldn’t stand the sight of blood right now, not with his stomach already in knots.

Struggling was pointless, that hadn’t stopped Varian from twisting his hands in the shackles, driven by leftover adrenaline and a primal desire for freedom. No matter how hard he pulled against them, though, they held fast, almost taunting him with the jangling sound they produced.

Varian was split somewhere between glaring and frowning as he inspected the chains, keen blue eyes seeking out any flaw, any weakness he could exploit. He found none. Even if he had, it wouldn’t matter. There was no way he way getting through the sturdy wooden door and thick iron bars surrounding him. 

In other words, he was _stuck._

_For now,_ Varian reminded himself. Corona’s dungeons were notorious for letting its prisoners escape. Not to criticize the kingdom’s woeful lack of security- but if they really wanted to keep him locked up, they might as well leave him in the wagon. He was far more likely to escape from a cell than from this damned thing. 

Varian finally gave up on the chains, letting his hands drop into his lap and leaning back against the door. His futile struggle had left him even more exhausted than before, if it were possible. Painful aches coursed through his body, no doubt the result of being tossed around in the automaton and manhandled by the guards. He was going to be sore for days. 

Varian was used to it, at this point.

Weeks of sleep deprivation and little food had left him prone to more accidents than usual; he had a slew of new scars hidden beneath his clothes, remnants of failed experiments and passing out while working. Every time he had to bandage sluggishly bleeding cuts, he reminded himself this would all be worth it. The sleepless nights, experiments that literally blew up in his face, and hours upon hours of running himself ragged until he was driven to tears because _nothing was working-_ none of it would matter. 

Varian had gone over his strategy countless times, working out every defect, preparing for any contingency. It should’ve all gone according to plan, and it did, right until the end. The moment he’d realized Rapunzel’s hair wasn’t going to work, that he’d failed dad _again_ , something inside him had _snapped._

Up until that point, Varian had allowed himself the faintest glimmer of hope. The hope that once his dad was free, everything would be fine. If he could just save dad, he could fix this. But the amber had stayed stubborn and unmoving, and while Rapunzel was embraced both her parents, Varian was left with no one. 

Again. 

It was in that moment any spark of hope in Varian’s heart was extinguished, the void quickly filled with hurt that quickly turned jealousy. Rapunzel had everything, Rapunzel got her happy ending. What did Varian get? Nothing.

He had _nothing._

When the realization had hit him, Varian was faced with two options. Give into despair, or keep fighting. For a brief, gut wrenching second, he was tempted to just give up. What was the point? He had nothing left to fight for. But seeing Rapunzel with her family- happy, safe, surrounded by people who loved her- it had ignited a firestorm. 

Deep down, he knew he was just digging himself into a deeper hole, but the pain was too much to take. Anger was his one remaining defense. If he truly had nothing left to lose, then there was nothing holding him back. He'd gave himself up to blinding rage and let it consume him.

Varian didn’t remember much after that. All he’d cared about was causing Rapunzel the same pain he’d been drowning in for weeks. He’d been so close, too. 

But in a cruel twist of fate, the black rocks had begun to respond to the princess, obeying her command and ruining Varian’s last chance of winning, of taking away what Rapunzel had taken from him. The rocks had torn his machine apart, piercing it through, pinning it to the ground and ripping a despairing scream from his throat. 

Varian’s breathing hitched. He’d lost. He’d actually lost. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this- but here he was; in chains, out of options, _alone-_

A soft chirp proved that false. Varian glanced down, attempting a smile as Ruddiger nuzzled his way into Varian’s lap, wide black eyes peering up at him with what he interpreted as concern. Varian drifted his fingers through Ruddiger’s fur, so undeniably thankful that not everyone had betrayed him.

“Thanks buddy,” Varian whispered, an unexpected lump rising in his throat, “for staying.” He didn’t know why Ruddiger had chosen to stay by his side. He didn’t deserve such a loyal friend after everything he’d done. 

_No._ resentment swelled in him again. It wasn’t his fault. They’d _made_ him do it. He never wanted to go this far, but Rapunzel hadn’t given him the choice. He had tried everything to make her, to make _all_ of them listen. It was only when he became a threat that they did. He might be the bad guy, but she’d made him one.

The thought made him more nauseous. Or maybe it was just hunger pangs- Varian wasn’t entirely sure when he’d eaten last. It had to have been a while. His lips and throat were dry, and he was so dizzy he could barely sit up. His stomach was churning, but Varian was determined to not throw up in here. It would just make him feel more pathetic.

His gut gave another painful clench, and Varian groaned. _Don’t you dare-_

Too late. 

Ruddiger scrambled up to Varian’s shoulders as he leaned over and retched. Only bile came up, burning his already sore throat and leaving a foul taste in his mouth. Varian’s eyes watered as his body tried to purge itself of what wasn’t there, his stomach turning inside out. Minutes passed, though it felt more like an eternity before Varian stopped heaving up acid, one last glob of horrid tasting spit joining the putrid puddle on the floor. 

Varian stayed there on his hands and knees, breathing heavily as his vison came back into focus. His face and neck were soaked with cold sweat, goosebumps running up and down his clammy flesh. Ruddiger chittered anxiously from his shoulders. 

“What the hell?”

Varian’s eyes shot upwards. Big mistake. In the time it took for the world to stop spinning, he had worked out that the wagon must have stopped while he was vomiting. An unfamiliar guard stood on the other side of the bars, holding a hand to his mouth and appearing slightly green as he took in the sight before him. Varian knew he must look awful, with dark circles under his eyes, holding himself up with quivering arms even as he hardened his expression into a scowl. _“What.”_

The guard swallowed, gaze darting between Varian and the sickly yellowish liquid running along the floor planks. He was scared of him, Varian realized with a start, shifting uneasily under the guard’s frightened stare. That- that was a good thing, right? He’d finally proven himself as someone worthy of their attention, shown them how dangerous he could be.

_Dangerous._ Was that what he was? Just a dangerous opponent, someone to be feared?

Varian was beginning to feel queasy again.

He and the guard faced off for another minute, both unwilling to break eye contact first. Varian was just about ready to drop from exhaustion when a voice interrupted.

“Darwin, everything alright back there?”

The guard- Darwin- shook himself, tearing his eyes away. “Yeah,” he called, sauntering off in a show of false confidence. “The kid just puked.”

“I am _not_ cleaning that up,” the second voice declared. 

“Well, neither am I!”

The wagon jerked forward again, and Varian tuned out the two voices, carefully lowering himself to the floor so as to avoid the puddle of sick. The damp wood wasn’t the least bit comfortable, but Varian feared he might pass out if he didn’t lie down. Ruddiger moved to curl up on his chest, his warm, familiar weight a soothing presence. 

Varian’s thoughts swarmed for attention. He ignored all of them. The anger, despair, and crippling fear warring for control inside him could wait. The moment they arrived back in the capital he would be forced to put his shields up once again, let them see the monster they thought he was. But that wouldn't be for a while. He was _tired;_ he just wanted to forget the last few hours and rest. 

The world passed by on the other side of the bars, hills and trees and the occasional pond or creek. A soft breeze ruffled Varian’s hair, carrying the faint scent of wild grasses and flowers. The rising sun was warm on his face, and he breathed it all in, letting his eyes drift shut. If only this moment could last forever. It might very well be the last time he was ever outside.

Varian’s eyes flew open. _Not now,_ he pleaded with himself. If he was going to be locked away forever- or worse- all he wanted was one last moment free of that suffocating darkness. One last moment of _living_ before someone else decided his fate, and what happened next wasn't up to him. It was suddenly getting harder to breathe, his lungs held in a vice. The weight on his chest was _too much¬_

Varian fought past the panic gripping him, forcing himself to breathe through the haze. It took every ounce of willpower he had left, but he managed to sit up, gathering Ruddiger in his arms. The raccoon sensed his discomfort and snuggled closer. With the pressure gone, air came in with less difficulty. He leaned against the bars, gulping in as much air as possible while shoving down his emotions, burying them away alongside everything else. Whatever came next, he wouldn’t let its shadow overtake him now. He _needed_ this. No thinking allowed. Especially not about _that._

So he stared out over the countryside, losing himself in the illusion that everything was alright. The rocks marred the landscape, but there were fewer so far from the border. Playful gusts of wind grazed tree branches and plants alike, and overhead, the sky had lightened to a pleasant light sapphire. 

The illusion evaporated. 

_Startled sapphire blue eyes and a barely audible gasp-_

Varian tightened his grip on Ruddiger as the memory swallowed him. 

He had seen someone.

~*~

Warm morning sunlight filtered its way through the treetops as Demanitus made his way back to the campsite with an armful of firewood. Leaves crunched underneath his boots, adding to the pleasant sounds of the forest. It was about time to start breakfast, there was a fresh banana waiting-

**_Crash._ **

Demanitus shouted in surprise as a large, disembodied tree branch nearly took his head off. He dropped to the forest floor, head whipping around to see the branch skid into the ground behind him, uprooting once lovely wildflowers and spraying dirt all over him. 

Demanitus's good mood soured. He was used to her monkeying around, throwing fits like the teen she was, but demolishing trees- _why was it always trees¬?_ before noon? That was unlike her. Well, not recently. She’d been in a perpetual bad mood since her birthday. 

He straightened, smacking the dirt off his cloak right on cue. _Oh, for crying out loud._ The next branch was expertly avoided, and Demanitus sped the rest of the way to the nearby clearing. _“Zoë!”_ He drew out the name much longer than he needed to, his one eye twitching in irritation. Crouching had squashed his banana.

He was only a few feet away when the unfortunate oak Zoë had chosen to take her temper out on gave out, embracing the earth with a cacophony of cracks and thuds. Demanitus edged his way around the overgrown pile of splinters, frowning upon them with disdain. For a wind spirit, she had such little regard for preserving nature. “I take it your visit didn’t go well?” He raised his eyebrow at Zoë. “Are you alright?”

She glowered at him from where she stood halfway across the clearing, feet planted firmly and fists clenched. Sweat beaded on her forward and ran down her neck, shining on paler than normal skin. 

“I’m. _Peachy_.” she seethed. A gust of wind shot through the clearing, giving away the lie. Zoë’s eyes blazed with a fury Demanitus hadn’t seen in a while; cold as ice, but still capable of burning a man to ashes. It alighted an uneasy feeling within him. 

But, for Zoë’s sake, he adopted an air of calm, feet carrying him to the center of their campsite. He set down his load and took a seat next to the smoldering remains of last night’s fire. He tried to appear nonchalant as possible. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Zoë had pivoted towards another tree, streams of wind gathering into her outstretched hands. Her fingers twitched. “Do I ever?” Her arm thrust forward, a whirlwind bolting right into the poor tree, stripping away several layers of bark and leaving a remarkably large dent in the once round trunk. 

Demanitus eyed her suspiciously. Yes, she was definitely hiding something. “Is Varian alright?”

“He went and got himself arrested.” Zoë punched the air again, sending a branch flying. “But other than that? He’s fine.” 

_Arrested?_ Just what had he missed? “Zoë.”

_“What.”_

“What happened.” His tone left no room for argument. Zoë fired him a sideways glare, finally relenting. She spoke in rushed words, clearly unhappy as she relayed to Demanitus what she had seen. At some point, her knees started to wobble. Exhaustion, he assumed. She was still sporadically pausing to further torment the tree. 

“And Quirin is still stuck in that amber- I _told_ that liar this would all backfire someday, but did he listen? _No_.” Zoë finished with another swipe at the tree. The trunk was nearly severed. Deep gashes ran diagonally down the wood, the result of a clawlike slash from her fingertips.

Demanitus slowly processed everything she’d told him. Varian- his heir, his blood, just months younger than Zoë (biologically, at least), a mere _child-_ a criminal? He didn’t want to believe it. The thought of his last two descendants now imprisoned- however differently- was quite a revelation to wrap his mind around. His only remaining kin, lost. He hadn’t even gone to see them since that fateful night fourteen years ago. The night Varian was born. 

He’d never forget entering the castle in a panic, relieved to find both Lydia and her baby alive, and furious to hear what had been done to the child. It had taken him some time to realize he would have done the same, had he been there and not Zoë. It had taken even longer to accept that the prophecy he’d spent centuries trying to prevent had been set in motion. Zoë, on the other hand, was still in hard denial. 

_Saved by the Wind, chosen by the Moon…_

Demanitus directed his thoughts back to the matter at hand. “Did you find out how Quirin was…overtaken?” He’d been asking that question ever since the blizzard. Zoë hadn’t been able to astral project for weeks after that, and thus hadn't gotten any answers. He had no clue what had happened to his great-great-grandson. 

Zoë paused in her quest for destruction, letting her hands drop to her sides. She bit her lip. “It…wasn’t that hard to figure out,” she said quietly. Her expression was all kinds of troubled.

Demanitus studied her, the cogs in his brain working out the meaning behind her words. He was struck with utter horror the instant he put it together. “You don’t mean.. _.Varian?_ ” His throat was suddenly very dry. “Why would he-?”

Hurt flashed across Zoë’s face, and then vanished beneath a scowl. “What kind of person would do that to their own family?” she spat, the air growing cold. “Oh, right. _Me_.” 

Demanitus frowned, heart aching for her. “Zoë-” He didn’t get to finish. 

Zoë loosed her fragile hold on the Wind, frigid air spiraling free in a concussive blast. The gale toppled no less than four trees. They crashed to the forest floor, utterly flattened by her unharnessed power. 

Demanitus had to hold himself back as Zoë dropped like a stone, energy all but spent. Every instinct was calling for him to rush to her side, make sure she was alright, but he knew better. Zoë preferred to stay distant; pushing her limits when she was already drained would only put another rift between them. Fates knew how many they already had. 

So as much as it pained him to stay away, Demanitus didn’t move an inch. Zoë panted from where she had collapsed, snowy hair pillowing around her head like a halo. One hand weakly twisted through the loose waves, the other on her heaving chest, never out of reach of the silvery crescent moon dangling from her neck. 

The silence dragged on, Demanitus slowly rebuilding the fire to prepare some food. Zoë would need it; astral projection was taxing enough, not to mention the storm of emotion driven power she had just unleashed. It was a wonder she was still conscious. 

That brought up the question of what had happened less than an hour ago. Zoë had been brief in her explanation- she’d never been one for details. Demanitus trusted her to tell him all that was necessary, and if she hadn’t already done so, there was a good reason for it. That, or she was still mustering the courage to say it out loud. 

Something was still nagging at him, however. 

“Zoë?” he started cautiously. 

“It was an accident,” Zoë said immediately. She knew him too well. So much for distance. “Varian, he’s not- he’s not me.” There was a heartbreaking longing in her voice. 

Demanitus resisted yet another urge to go to her side. He kept his one-eyed gaze set on the crackling fire, stirring up the flames with a long stick. 

Of course, he hadn’t believed for an instant that Varian would’ve purposely done something like that to his own father. That didn’t mean Zoë’s confirmation of the truth hadn’t helped ease his mind somewhat. Quirin was a good man, misguided at times, but Demanitus knew he had raised Varian well. If only he hadn’t been so determined to hide the past, hide who Varian was. He didn’t blame his descendant, of course. Varian’s choices had been his own, and yes, he should be punished, but Demanitus feared he and Zoe might need to intervene. 

His suspicions were proven right all too soon. 

“Manny?” Zoë’s voice floated over, laced with reluctance. 

Demanitus looked up, eye softening with concern. He didn’t say a word, but he knew Zoë knew he was listening. 

Zoë fiddled with her amulet, eyes distant. She was quiet, contemplating. Then... 

“The Disciples are after Varian.” 

~*~

Frederic slouched in his throne, head throbbing with the beginnings of a migraine. The throne room was empty, silent save for Frederic’s breathing. Sunlight had yet to reach the windows, long shadows stretching their way along the length of the room as Frederic wallowed in his troubled thoughts. 

Arianna had been ordered to bedrest, and had requested some time to herself. Frederic would rather be close to his wife during this difficult time, but he’d learned his lesson when it came to listening to his loved ones. So after seeking reassurance from the royal doctor that the queen would indeed be alright, he had retired to the throne room, mind struggling to comprehend the unfortunate events of the last few hours. 

If only he’d realized his errors sooner. His attempts to protect his family had only led to him nearly losing them- and his entire kingdom. He was fortunate enough to be forgiven by both, however undeserving. While he couldn’t take responsibility for the choices of a certain young alchemist, Varian wouldn’t have had the option to make those choices if Frederic hadn’t been so blind. 

The thought of the child now residing in the castle dungeons weighed heavily on Frederic. He was at a loss for what to do. He couldn’t help but seethe with rage every time he recalled Rapunzel collapsing to the floor of Varian’s lab, and Arianna’s cries of pain as she was crushed in the iron grip of the automaton. It was his job to protect his family- not just as a king, but as a husband and father- and he’d failed miserably. The beast within him that had awakened when Rapunzel was taken- silent since her return- was roaring again. Part of him didn’t want to show any mercy. Part of him wanted to let Varian rot in the dungeons, or- the beast growled in approval- have him executed and be done with him. 

Frederic ran through the list of the boy’s crimes. Theft of royal property, treason, kidnapping, attempted murder, attempted regicide- and that was just off the top of his head. Any one of those was enough to warrant a death sentence. 

But Frederic couldn’t make himself forget that he was dealing with a child. A scared, grieving child nonetheless. He had arrived at the castle just after Varian, and witnessed the formation of a veritable mob as the teen was taken to the dungeons. The guards had plowed a path through the jeering crowd, allowing Frederic to climb to the balcony in time to catch a glimpse of Varian. 

Frederic had watched, frozen, as his guards guided Varian through the throng of people, turning away anyone who dared to get too close. To his credit, Varian didn’t so much as flinch every time a bold citizen took a threatening step. His eyes stayed fixed somewhere ahead of him, never once straying to the people screaming at him. 

Frederic strained to see better, and realized with a jolt that Varian was _crying._ Silent tears rolled down his face, giving away the terror he was no doubt hiding behind that spiteful mask. Just how petrified was he that he couldn’t even think to hide it?

The memory of that image alone was enough to banish the thought of execution from Frederic’s mind. He’d promised the boy help, and he would go to the ends of the earth to get it if for him it meant he could somewhat make up for his past mistakes. 

A door creaked open. 

“Your majesty?” 

Frederic swiveled his head towards one of the side doors to the throne room. A guard was leaning in, head bowed in respect. Frederic waved his hand in a “go on” gesture. 

“There’s a man here,” the guard explained, “a doctor. He says he heard about- about the kid, and he wants to know if he can help.” 

An eyebrow quirked in surprise. Frederic had been prepared to spend quite some time searching for a qualified person to give Varian the help he needed. To have someone offer their services, and this soon....

Was this a miracle, or some cruel joke?

“Bring him in,” Frederic requested. The guard nodded and shut the door behind him. Frederic sat there in the dim light, wondering how such a coincidence came to be. Of course, he would hold off on an official decision; he’d have to speak to Arianna first. 

But that would come after meeting this so-called doctor. For some reason, even though he hadn’t yet met this man, a hopeful feeling bubbled inside him. Maybe fate was choosing to be kind to him, give him a second chance, an opportunity to make things right. 

The door opened once again, and a man bowed his way into the room. Frederic observed him carefully. He was tall, slightly stout, with a receding grey hairline. He was dressed in well-worn traveling clothes, and a polite- but slightly dry- smile creased the wrinkles on his face. 

“I apologize for my appearance, your majesty,” he began, brushing a smudge of dirt off his coat. “I arrived last night and couldn’t find time to change amidst all the commotion.” 

Frederic waved him off as he approached the throne. “It’s no matter.” Right to business. “You say you’re interested in offering your services?” 

The man nodded. “My name is Aaron Orville,” he introduced himself. “I’m the head doctor at Evergreen, a rehabilitation center for those with... troubled minds. I was on my way to visit a friend, and it seems I arrived at just the right time.” He shook his head in sympathy. “I heard about the boy. Such a tragedy.”

Frederic’s brows creased. “Evergreen... the asylum?” he questioned. Maybe this wasn’t the right person for the job after all. 

“I prefer not to use that term,” Orville said firmly. “We take pride in being the most successful practice in the Seven Kingdoms to help people who can’t help themselves. Most walk out of our doors changed men and women.” 

“I see.” Frederic couldn’t argue with that. He too had heard the stories of Evergreen’s unusual ability to cure people of insanity and other mental ailments. “But I don’t think I’d want to send Varian to a center meant for adults.” It would be risky enough for the kingdom. But for Varian? Frederic didn’t want to gamble with the boy’s life like that. He’d be safer here, where Frederic could keep a close watch on him.

“That’s no trouble,” Orville said, spreading his hands. “I’d be happy to stay here for a time and see what I can do.” He sounded honest. 

“And you believe you can help?” 

“With all my heart.” 

Frederic considered the words. His people were already calling for a trial. If he could pacify them for a few months, allow Varian to achieve a better frame of mind, things might turn out better for everyone. The man sounded like he knew what he was doing, and Frederic was seriously contemplating it. If Orville could work the same wonders he did at Evergreen.... 

It wouldn’t hurt to try. 

Clearing his throat, Frederic stood from his throne. “I can’t say I’m not interested, Doctor, but I’d like to confer with the queen before I make a decision. How long are you willing to-“ 

“Oh, don’t worry, your majesty,” Orville interrupted. Frederic could’ve sworn his eyes flashed red. “There’s no need to speak to the queen.” 

Frederic blinked. Maybe- maybe he didn’t need to talk to Arianna first. She would understand, wouldn’t she? After all, on the journey home she had been very vocal about her desires to help Varian. She would be thrilled. 

All doubts cleared from his head, Frederic nodded. “I think you’re right, Doctor. This matter can’t wait.” He paused. “What will you need?” 

“Just a simple room. Someplace quiet, where we won’t be disturbed,” the doctor requested. 

Another nod. “When can you start?” 

Orville grinned. Something prickled along Frederic’s scalp, but he ignored it. “Tomorrow. Do you mind if I bring my antique globe?”

**Author's Note:**

> So, I hope that wasn't too confusing. I've been staring at this for two months trying to figure it out. Don't worry if the characters are a bit confusing, it was intentional. I have many secrets to share in the distant future...  
> Also, don't read too much into Evergreen. It's just a personal easter egg for another fic I hope to write soon. (hint: definitely read into the globe)  
>  I don't have a set update schedule (thanks, mom), but I'm aiming for every two weeks or so. This chapter- and the next- are mainly setup, so don't be alarmed if things seem a little slow.   
> I hope you enjoyed, and would love to hear your thoughts. Don't be shy! If you have questions, feel free to hit me up on tumblr (aevsfires).


End file.
